


Stay Away from This Thing

by genewritesstuff



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher - Fandom, kastle - Fandom
Genre: .380, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Frank Castle/ Karen Page - Freeform, The Punisher, daredevil s2, frank x karen, karen x frank, kastle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-26
Packaged: 2018-05-28 09:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6323482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genewritesstuff/pseuds/genewritesstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Murdock's confession, Karen finds herself suffocating, dying to leave everything and everyone that played a role in her mess. Her vacation however, was cut short with an unexpected visit from an unwelcome guest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lost but Found

**Author's Note:**

> Not sure if I should continue this work so if you like it and would like to read some more, please leave a comment and I'll post the next ones!

“What is it, to be a hero?”

That article is her truth, Karen thought, and every shitstorm she’s been a part of since that night she met Daniel Fisher, they need to be put on paper for the people and out of the mind. Or in time she’ll be the one who’s out of her mind otherwise.

He didn’t suspect him, that much is true. Yes, she wondered about the ‘minor accidents’, that every time they see each other his face is red with bruises and marks newer and fresher and in all the different places than they were before. They all hurt though, not Matt’s almost always injured face because of a “drinking problem”, not even the fact that she pitied him every time he walks through that door because it couldn’t have been easy for him alone like that. It hurts that she never really knew him, not really. Not even during their time working together, or that beautiful night he didn’t want to ruin, not even then. Just not ever. Matt is a lot of things and Karen just added liar to that list.

Foggy’s calling, again, and she feels bad for him for a moment. The better half of Nelson & Murdock is now working for one of the most prestigious law firms in Hell’s Kitchen. After that disaster “Trial of the Century: Punisher’s Trial”, people took notice of his talents for law because his impromptu opening statement in covering Matt’s ass is well-beyond impressive. Karen wonders if he knew too, if during all those times they were at Josie’s or talking to potential clients or interrogating a really bad one in a hospital bed, he knew that Matt puts leather on every night to be the Devil and didn’t even think of telling her. Her phone has been ringing all day, getting full with missed calls from those two lawyers but she’s having none of them tonight. Let them worry, Karen thought, let them know what she felt all those times.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?”

In a breath, Karen jumped up and reached for her purse. She knew it would only be a matter of time before he marches back to her life and she wants to be ready when he does.

“You know I already complemented your .380, no need to show it to me.” Even at gunpoint, he doesn’t break a sweat. Karen felt stupid at this, because why would he? This is child’s play for Frank “The Punisher” Castle, and the gun in her hands is shaking for reasons right now she couldn’t tell.

She’s crying. He noticed it before she did herself. He’s looking straight at her, at her face, her lips. her eyes. Her eyes. The blue of the ocean couldn’t go against them. The blue of the sky couldn’t touch them. Her eyes were clear, distinct, honest. Hers. And now like the ocean, water is upon it. Like the sky, water comes raining down from it. Blue is such a sad word and looking at her eyes, at her soul, it fits. And it pains him to admit that he caused it to be. He started walking towards her.

“Another step and I shoot.” Her voice is breaking, her face red. He stopped and stood there, hands in the air. She’s afraid, yes, but not of him. She’s never been afraid of him.

“Put the gun down, Karen.” He wants to hold her.

“Another step, Frank. Another step and I shoot.” Her eyes are heavy from all the sleepless nights but his were worse. They’re more than just exhausted, they’re more than tired. They were lifeless and blank, and looking right into her. It figures that they were, from everything he had done, all he had seen, it’s as good a description as any. Karen felt the tears on her cheeks, warm and falling fast and she thought of the many past events they were wasted on Frank’s account. She felt pain, she felt numb but held the gun with all her strength and realized that this pain, this particular one that is trying to put her on the floor now is for him. For this murderer, this punisher. For Frank Castle, or at least for the man that he used to be. All that’s left to do now is to pull the trigger.

“Karen.” His words are holding him back, he can’t talk to her like this. He had always been good with masking pain, but seeing her hurting like that cuts into him deeper than any blade ever could.

“What are you doing here? Why are you here, why are you…Why did you come back? What do you want?” She’s almost shouting now, her voice rising unintentionally to try to hide her crying. The phone stopped ringing for a moment and started again within seconds. They must be losing their minds wanting to talk to her, those two, even just to see her. What they’re going to say or do, she doesn’t intend to know. Not yet. She needs more time. More time to think, to accept, to heal. And that’s why she left, away from everything and everyone that reminds her of the life in that shitty city, and the solitude’s all well and good for her up til tonight.

“I came to speak to you, Karen, alright? Put the gun down, come on.” Locks of blonde hair are falling to her face now but her eyes never left his, and her shaky hands never freed the gun. “I am not going to hurt you, Karen, you know that.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t know that, Frank, not anymore.” It was a relief to hear her say his name again. After all this time of searching for her, it was the first time in weeks since he gave out a breath without any hint of guilt for the slightest possibility of him being the reason of her disappearance. After all those times in the middle of the night when he’d wake up from a nightmare, worried sick if she’s alright or alive or sleeping well at night, there she finally is. He knew the answer to the last one the moment he saw her face. He wants to touch her now, in the most innocent sense of the act. He wants to feel her skin, to recognize her beyond the flesh, to feel her life through it, and to know that she is here, that he finally found her. He took a moment, a long and silent one and with her standing right there, this moment could last him a lifetime.

“This honestly feels familiar.” He was hoping to set the mood to a lighter tone but she wouldn’t budge. "Too bad there wasn't a hail of bullets raining down on us now." The red on her face scares him more than the red of all the blood he ever shed. He sighed in frustration and looked around her room. “You’re really difficult to find, you know that? Those lawyers were probably kicking themselves wondering where you are, especially the blind one.”

“Don’t. Just don’t.” This isn’t a conversation she wants to have tonight, and especially not with him. Her tears are still pouring out but she didn’t mind. Her hands are sweaty holding the grip of the gun but she stands there, paralyzed because she knew she would never have the courage to hurt this man, not even if her life depended on it. She blinked a few times to get the tears gathering off her eyes. “How did you find me? How…I mean how did you…”

“I never left Hell’s Kitchen. Even after everyone thought I was dead, I thought I could use that for a clean slate, you know. It certainly is enticing…”

“That’s not the right answer, Frank. How did you find me?”

“I’m still The Punisher, Karen.”

Her heart skipped a beat. To hear this come from him, Karen realized that this is the end of her vacation.

“I still do what I do, because it is the only way to keep the people safe. To protect them against whatever bullshit attack that comes from the government or those crime families. Shit, I…I fight because that’s the only thing I know that would make the slightest bit of difference in that pathetic city and everyone feels safer.”

“HOW DID YOU FIND ME?”

“I protect, that’s how. Every citizen in the streets, every child at the park, everyone. And the minute you jumped into a bus with clothes and cash on hand, mind reeling with the idea of getting far away, I saw you. And I had to protect you, I just had to.”

“Why, just why do you all say that? Is that how you all see me? Is that why you’re here? Because you see me as someone pathetic? Someone who can’t be trusted by herself? Someone weak? Well I’m not, Frank. You, of all people, you…you should know that. I don’t need…”

“I know. I know. Hey, I know. You’re not weak, Karen, or pathetic. I’m here because…I’m here…because I…I…I honestly don’t know.”

She lost her words and he lost his. The ringing is the only sound in the room breaking the silence but they both know it will eventually stop and they’ll have to find their voices before it does. There’s no movement in the room until Karen brought her hands down slowly and put the .380 away from sight. She’s lost in thought now but it just seemed like the right thing to do. Still, her voice is in pieces and she couldn’t bring herself to say a word. The ringing stops.

“All I know is that, I need to see you. I need to see you, Karen, and I couldn’t stay away.”

She lifted her eyes to his. The phone started ringing, and he started walking to her.


	2. Knock knock

That was the last straw. She came to New York to be an accountant, to start living a life away from the confines of Vermont. Hell's Kitchen had been many things to her, and it came just close enough to being home. 

Her time at Nelson & Murdock with Nelson and Murdock has been quite the roller coaster ride and now like every other thrill-seeker getting out, she’s sick of those godawful twists but delighted at the prospect of another shot. Days and nights with them are her living moments. The times when life fills her with purpose far more glorious than anything she'd ever tasted because no matter how seemingly insignificant their actions are, people who walk through their office door do so believing that the three of them can and will make a difference. People put faith in them to do good in a city rotting in nasty, and that counts for something. For her, it used to. 

Now, she's just tired. Losing that trial had cost her more than her career. She got lost in the gray of right and wrong and she can't tell herself it's such a bad thing. That "crazy" that Foggy warned her about has gotten to her now and getting it off is easier said than done. Frank did a number on her, and this she can't deny. She needs somebody to take the blame for her life falling apart and it feels easy, right even, to let him take it all. Foggy is a big-shot lawyer now to nobody's surprise. She wondered if he still frequents Josie's despite the fact that his salary must have convinced him now to change local hang-outs. Matt hasn't talked to her about the nature of their relationship yet, or the lack thereof, but he met with her to drop a bomb about his secret life in the streets at night. That was it, she decided. No more. She's having none of that now. No more of trying to do good but getting stuck, buried in the dirt. No more of searching for the light, for truth, when all you can see are the shadows serving up layers after layers of lies to keep us in the dark. No more of helping the people who can't be helped, who don't want to be helped, who don't want to be saved. No more. So she left, to go some place far. Somewhere silent without the buzz of corruption keeping it grounded, somewhere innocent, good. Some place she found at the bottom of a bottle. Some place not real. 

And right now, some place not here. 

Karen didn't think to turn the light on because she was sure that tonight, like all her previous nights, would be spent drinking and listening to some tapes she found in that stolen car. She's not feeling up for music though because the ringing from her phone is noise enough, and she proceeded with the other task. So when he came up to her, standing in front of her with heavy breath, the streetlight peeking through the window sufficed to show the bloodied face of the man who caused all her troubles. This man. This man she had never known to be accustomed to a clean face except from what she saw in pictures. This man who holds himself like a soldier, now taking off his baseball cap to get more scrapes and bruises out in the pale light, a cut bleeding just above his left brow. This man who told her to get away, the man she never could understand. 

She took a step back. He froze there, his eyes falling to the floor. The ringing stopped again.

“Stay away, that’s what you told me to do, right? To get away from you? From this…thing?” She tried to compose herself, wiped her face, tucked her hair behind both ears and crossed her arms. All efforts in making a straight face weren’t enough after seeing all the red in his.

“Alright. Look…just. You don’t have to say anything, okay? You could just listen.”

“I could also call the cops, you know. Tell them you’re here.” She’s not letting up. Frank felt her anger sting but he didn’t mind. He was oddly impressed. 

“You could do that, yeah. But Ma’am, you know, there’s this small matter of me being dead and all. So police might come here, but not for me. They’d think you could use a psych eval after everything you’ve been through, and they might be right…”

“Everything I’ve been through because of you.” The ringing went on again.

“Yeah, sure. Because of me, alright. Whatever makes you feel better.” He scoffed, circling the living room to take the seat across Karen’s. He checked the bottles on the table, all three of them empty so he just slouched back on the crimson sofa. “Got any more of these?”

“None for you.” She went to the kitchen to turn her phone off, and to get herself another beer. It certainly is not a good idea to leave Frank alone in the living room but at this time of night, with more alcohol in her system than she could possibly handle, neither nothing nor everything makes sense. This is going to be a long night. She stumbled onto the counter trying to find the light switch and squinted for a moment when she turned them on. 

“Not even a cup of coffee? Where’s your sense of hospitality Ms. Page?” He raised his voice so she could hear him from the living room. With the lights on now, he surveyed the room. The crimson sofa set doesn’t work with the lime interior, but it certainly matches the drapes with serpentine patterns. The television looks untouched because the dust covering remains undisturbed, and so do the cerulean bed sheets except for a pile of clothes upon it. One look around and Frank was sure Karen’s been spending most of her nights in that dusty couch. Her wallet, her cash, and some papers were on the table by the bed and her bag looked comfortable in the corner where she left it probably since moving in. 

“You want me to listen, right? I’m listening.” She came back with a bottle on one hand, a mug on the other. She put both on the table and moved the mug to his direction. He’s too tired, and his face all ruined but despite the cuts he managed a smile of gratitude, it’s all he could do anyway. “Otherwise I’m not wasting my night on you.” Karen thought against it but sat down anyway, her eyes unwavering in his direction. He can sense that she’s serious but this conversation could do with a lighter atmosphere.

“Oh? So instead you’ll waste your night on them?” Frank nods at the empty beer bottles and the recently opened one. He saw her roll her eyes in spite, and he gave out a laugh. “Quite a plan you got there, Ma’am.”

“Well it’s better than roaming the streets putting bullets into people.” She took a sip and although completely aware that this is a bad idea, she dismissed her common sense and took another one.

“Nah, that’s not what I got planned tonight.” He looked down at the mug and briefly smirked. “Black.” He drank quickly, and laughed immediately after. She didn’t know why and he went on for almost half a minute until he finally spoke. “Shit Karen,” she froze. “How’d you manage to screw up black coffee? Man, I knew I should’ve gone to that diner instead. You remember that, right?” 

Karen hid a smile. She doesn’t say a word for a minute, two, maybe more. She was silent, eerily silent. Pensive, ruminative, serene. None of these words made the cut trying to describe her. Frank was slowly overwhelmed with guilt which didn’t come as a surprise. What did, however, was the hint of fear draining him inside out. The quiet felt comforting before but it’s eating away at him now. He put the mug back on the table and leveled his eyes with hers. 

“What is it?”

She brought the bottle to her face, looked at the bottle and showed it to him. “I’m a lightweight, you know, and honestly I’m jumpy and probably talking a lot of nonsense right now.”

“You weren’t talking at all, really…”

“So excuse me when I ask you this. What did he do?” The bottle slipped from her hand. It didn’t break, fortunately, but a lot of the contents spilled. Karen grabbed the towel an arm’s length from where she was sitting and dropped to the floor to wipe it clean. Frank crouched beside her to help but she brushed him off. “No, no. Sit down. I asked you something,” she mumbled while walking towards the kitchen sink, wet towel in hand. “Answer it. What did he do?”

“What?” He caught the question the first time she asked, but the second time still didn’t help make it clear.

“What did he do? The other guy?”

“What do you mean, the other guy?” Maybe it is true she already had too much to drink and now spurting out the nonsense she warned him about, but Frank didn’t consider the night a waste. He found her after all. “Who is he? I don’t…oh you mean the devil? Is that who you’re talking ‘bout?”

“I don’t know, did you see him tonight?” Frank feels lost now. This conversation is not making any sense and the alcohol working it’s way into her system is not helping. She had her back against the kitchen counter now, only a few meters away from him but a distance between them he wants to close all the same.

“No, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What…sit down, Karen.” She steps back into the room, takes her seat and lifts her leg on the couch to cover the length of it. “Look, the last time I saw the devil was also the last time I saw you. Haven’t seen both of you since then. But every night I go out…”

“So who was he?”

“Who was who? Ma’am, you’re not making a whole lot of sense right now. What do you mean?”

“I meant,” Karen lies on her back on the couch. She’s staring at the ceiling now but the conversation went on. “Who did you fight tonight? I know a fresh wound when I see one, Frank and yours are more than fairly recent. So? Who is it? Is he a member of one of those gangs you were so fond of killing? What did he do, huh? He cut in line at the hotdog stand? He ran a red light? Gave you that haircut? What exactly could he have done to deserve the Punisher tonight?“

Frank was smirking the whole time, and smiled completely at the haircut part. “Sorry, ma’am but this ain’t the conversation I wanna have with you.”

“Just humor me.”

“Wouldn’t exactly call that humor.”

“Just tell me.” He only knew Ms. Page for the shortest period of time, and yet he’s absolutely certain that she’s not letting this go any time soon. “Who is he? And what did he do?”

“No, it’s just…it’s Fight Club, is what it is.”

“Cut your shit, Frank.”

“You know the first rule of fight club is, Ma’am?” Her face sends a clear message that she wouldn’t fold, not until he does. “How ‘bout the second?” 

“Who is he? What did he do?“

“Karen, this ain’t what I came here for, alright?” He starts getting anxious about the subject, getting impatient. It may be the alcohol or it may be that she just doesn’t give a damn anymore but Karen pushed some more.

“Did he deserve it? You think he deserved it? Did you get to cross him off your schedule tonight?”

“GODDAMN IT, KAREN.” His face was red, his fist even more when he bashed it against the coffee table just loud enough to snap her out of it. It worked. “Look, I…this isn’t…shit. I’m sorry, alright? But this…I don’t.” His words won’t get out, his mind went to disarray, and he was a mess. Karen turned her head to look at him, but all she could do was stare. “This whole thing’s my mess, alright? This is my shit and I don’t need to explain myself to you, not to Red or to nobody. I just…goddammit. Look, I’m uh…I’m not telling you jack about that, alright? Anything but…”

“You told me to listen, right Frank? You told me to listen to you, so now I am.” Karen lifts herself up to sit and get their eyes aligned. “And I want to hear this.”

“You’re drunk, alright? You need to get some rest.” He stands and picks up his baseball cap.

“Tell me, Frank. Who is it this time?” She’s out-of-control but still hanging tough.

“You just…you sleep now, alright? I’ve overstayed my welcome here so you just…”

“Did he deserve it, huh? Did he deserve the Punisher?”

“I’ll show myself out, alright? Thank you for the coffee and all…”

“WHY WON’T YOU TELL ME? WHY NOT, HUH FRANK? YOU FOLLOWED ME, YOU CAME ALL THIS WAY TO SAY SOMETHING. SO TELL ME THIS. I WANT TO HEAR THIS FROM YOU. I…I NEED TO.” She grabbed him by the arms, her hands on a clutch, their breathing in sync now that they’re tearful eyes lay upon each other’s, silently conveying each other’s thoughts, fears, aches. “I need to know something true. Please.” 

Both minds went back to that night at the diner - the night he didn’t hold back on black coffee, the night she caught some advice from a madman that made all the sense in the world. That night both souls thought they each found a broken one who needed saving, that night both souls longed for a shot at fixing the other, and that night both realized that damages are as much a part of the whole as the absolute. 

All she ever wanted was the truth, that much Frank remembers. It’s the reason she trusts him, it’s the reason she didn’t give the cops a heads up about coming back from the explosion they collectively believe burned him down. And it’s why he’s taking the seat beside her now to tell the story of Mr. Pain.

“You know, on the way here I had this…this image of you kicking my ass at the door.” They were staring at the lime wall now on both ends of the sofa, hearts racing, scattering around the room, bodies sitting perfectly still. She let her guard down, and so did he. She could lay blame on alcohol in the morning and use that excuse, he probably needs to start making his, although his heart has no need for a second reason. The first would amply do, the first is enough to keep him glued to his rather uncomfortable spot, the first has smudged eye make-up and is listening intently.

“Yeah, well. I didn’t hear you knock.” Her smirk is simultaneously trenchant and delicate, however impossible that sounds. “But I can do that if you want. No, in fact I want to, but I’ll let you get your story out first.”

“It’s a deal, Ma’am.” They turn to look at each other and back at the wall. He continued. “Like I told you, I got nothing planned tonight. Nothing but this. I…I was gonna look for you and…I don’t know. I thought maybe I could, you know, tell you that you’re safe, that you could go back now. That you could go home now, you know?”

“I know.” He can’t bring himself to face her. 

“So…so I was waiting for a cab when I heard them talking. They’re Dogs, you know, of Hell’s Kitchen.”

“Yeah I know them.” 

“One of them’s Michael Payne, but lowlifes in the Kitchen call him Mr. Pain. The others were his goons, yeah? I thought about going to town, you know, in the… it’s figurative, you know? But the gang didn’t deal much on anything but artillery, and it was my night off.” She blurted out a laugh at that, took a moment, apologized, and told him to continue. He can’t stop smiling. “It’s true. It is. So I…I was just standing there and I heard them and I…I just beat the shit out their ass. And it’s funny because there’s…so there’s four of them, right? And there’s just me and…”

“What? Why would you do that? I mean, you just…you…you heard them talking and you went crazy and picked a fight? With them, all four of them against you? That’s…what were you thinking?” Her voice is shaking, fueled by concern rather than disgust. The cut above his left brow has been bleeding for a while now and she wonders how much longer she could resist getting a towel to wash that bloody face of his. 

“Well, it’s not just that, okay? They were talking shit, alright? I didn’t mind it at first but…” Karen stood up to fetch clean sheets and supplies for his injuries, but Frank took it as though she just lost interest in his news so he stopped bridling and gave it to her. The part of the story he has been sidestepping on, trying to dodge for fear of hurting her, the part of the story that ultimately did. The part that left her frozen in place, eyes wide, breathing heavy. “They were talking about money. Bargaining for something, I think. But I stood there long enough to hear them say what it was. Who it was. She’s fresh, is what they said. She’s young, just about thirteen.”

This is going to be a long night.


End file.
